Introspection
by Shrieker Of The Night
Summary: Maka has been experiencing complex emotions regarding her weapon Soul Eater. Contemplating these feelings leads to an epiphany that will forever shape how she views him. Will this realization motivate Maka to act upon these newly realized feelings or will she continue to deny herself of the one person she'd be willing to break her one promise for? SoMa. Rated M for Lemons.
1. Chapter 1: Contemplation

A/N: I've haven't posted on FFN in a good 5-6 years and actually fell out of the habit of writing fanfictions for a while. I read and watched Soul Eater about a year ago and finished the manga about 6 months ago. This is most likely a two-shot sort of thing. I've always really loved the dynamics of Soul and Maka's relationship and have "shipped" them even since I became part of the SE fandom. The second part to this will most likely be posted in a few days, to a week at most. I generally only write on Tuesdays, Thursday's, and the weekend since it's my downtime from school. Rating is at T for non-explicit suggestions. Please leave any constructive criticism and let me know how this FF is received. I apologize in advance for any spelling or grammatical errors.  
Much Love,  
Shrieker

I, in no way, receive profit from this, nor do I own the Soul Eater franchise.

Part One: Contemplation

Maka heard the door to the front door being opened and looked over at her clock, which read 1:45 pm. She had spent a good portion of the day in bed and couldn't bring herself to get up. Everything felt extremely complex and didn't make any sense to her at the moment. She was sure to that it would seem to an outsider like she was depressed; her papa had once again proved his negligence, and though his lack of reliability had once bothered her a lot, she couldn't bring herself to care anymore. She had grown apathetic concerning her father's mistakes at parenthood. No, something entirely different was bothering her, and she suspected that the said cause of her worry had just entered their apartment.

She could hear footsteps, footsteps that she recognized as her roommate and partner Soul's, walk around the otherwise silent apartment.

Soul.

She couldn't seem to make out when Soul began to mean so much more than that of just being her flat-mate and partner. Maybe it around the time that they all had defeated the Kishin Asura… or perhaps when they were pulled into the Book of Eibon…or maybe it could be traced all the way back to the time that Soul protected her from the near fatal blow from Crona. No matter which way Maka looked at it, she kept coming around in full circles and was left with no answers.

A soft knock at her door resonated throughout her room. She burrowed herself deeper into her bed, debating internally as to whether or not she should seek cover under her blankets.

"Maka… Are you in there?" Soul's voice came out gently through her closed bedroom door.

Should she stay silent and hope that he assumed that she was simply not home. She mused over the idea for a second and decided that Soul was not the type to accept that as a possibility. She was almost always with him, and if she wasn't, then the others would have been sure to know where she was. He was almost certainly just asking rhetorically. She made a quick excuse, "Yeah, Soul, I'm home. I'm just not feeling too good."

There was a pause outside her door. After seconds passed, she assumed he bought it and walked away. No such luck. "Do you want to talk about it?" He sounded hesitant. She could only imagine the expression of concern he was possibly wearing. She knew she wasn't a good liar, and even if she were, Soul knew her well enough to see through any lie.

"No!" She answered curtly and felt her face flush. "I mean, I'm probably super contagious, it'd be better if you didn't come in here."

"Yeah, sure… If you didn't want to talk-," there was another pause, as though he was deciding on whether or not to continue. "Look, I'll make dinner. Is there anything you want?"

"…Rice porridge?"

"Alright."

The conversation ended just like that. She slapped herself mentally. She knew that she was avoiding him as of late. She could tell that he noticed, but she couldn't face him, at least not until she sorted out her feelings. Every time she looked at him she felt as though every thought she had concerning him was completely transparent on her face. She trusted Soul, but she couldn't stand the rejection or possible revolted expression on his face. She had made the promise to herself to never make herself vulnerable the way her mother did to her father. She refused to be weak to a man.

'But Soul isn't like Papa. He's different.' Her conscious mused. It didn't matter. He was different, but he was also one in the same. She'd seen the way he looked at Blair; it was that look of absolute lust. And sure when they were fourteen it was different, it was a look of inexperienced boy hormones, but now. No, now he held some experience and maturity that couldn't be mistaken.

He had never looked at her that way. Even after she began to fill out. Sure, she might not have filled out so much upstairs, (her breasts weren't large, but they had filled into a B cup and were round and perky), but she now had a more womanly curve to her body. She was no Tsubaki, but she could no longer be mistaken for a boy or a pre-adolescent girl. Her hips had a gentle swell that was distinguishable from her waist's circumference, as well as her bottom filling out more. She was definitely more bottom heavy. She was had seen the way other boys, and sometimes even men, looked at her even though her body was still very slender. Maka was athletic but there was no denying that she was a young woman; this somehow didn't stop Soul from calling her 'Tiny-Tits' though, much to her chagrin.

She understood now. She didn't have some sort of pre-teen crush on Soul. She cared for him romantically, but most importantly… she wanted him. She was no longer a child, she was at the age of 18, and she wanted Soul for more than simply holding hands. She wanted to caress his cheek as their faces drew near, to wrap her arms around his neck and run her fingers through his alabaster hair as their tongues intertwined. She wanted to feel his hands run down her sides and grab at her in carnal desire.

Most importantly, she wanted him to feel the same desire for her that she felt bubbling within herself throughout these years.

Never had she felt so inadequate or so weak-willed in her own set of beliefs.

She tossed her comforter overhead and closed her eyes tightly. This revelation seemed to open a well of longing in the pit of her stomach, as well as her opening a long since healed wound on her heart. She didn't know how to handle it, she had never really admitted to openly liking, much less loving- she stopped herself before she could begin delve into something too profound for herself in her current state. The only option was to smother the ideas that went hand-in-hand with this new confession. She sighed deeply, dissatisfied with her current predicament.

Ignoring the sunlight battling to break into her room through the blinds, she willed herself to sleep.

A/N: So that is the end to the first part, let me know your opinions on this. Hopefully my writing has greatly improved since the last 5 years, haha. The rating might go up, depending on if I decide to write a "lemon" or not. No flames, just constructive criticism; I can handle it, I can assure you that my history professor is a much heavier grader and I'm strong.


	2. Chapter 2: Dissension

A/N: Second piece so far, it's only a tad bit longer than the first chapter. The piece after this one will definitely be longer. I'd like to thank the people that have read and reviewed thus far. I commonly listen to music as I write anything so if you'd like to hear some of the things that helped possibly influence this story, check out SZA's Babylon, her single with Willow Smith called 9, as well as FKA Twigs' LP1 album, (my personal favorites to listen to while writing this are FKA Twigs' songs Kicks, Closer, and Pendulum.) These songs really have a melancholy feel to them with a really strong sensual edge. They're pretty good if you're into stuff like Massive Attack, Bjork, or Portishead. I apologize in advance for any spelling or grammatical errors.  
Much love,  
Shrieker.

I, in no way, receive profit from this, nor do I own the Soul Eater franchise.

* * *

Part Two: Dissension

Maka awoke to once again hear faint knocking on her door. She uncovered her head and glanced over at her clock. It was nearly half past two, meaning she wasn't asleep for very long.

Her door cracked open, an alabaster head of unkempt hair peeking through. "Maka, you asked for some porridge. I knocked earlier and you didn't answer." He scowled at her and snapped. "Do you still want to eat or what?"

"Yeah, I'll be out in a second…," her tone grave.

He mumbled something under his breath but continued to close the door.

She sat up in bed and pulled the cord of the blinds to allow the sunlight through, a grimace clear on her face. _'Why did it have to be Soul, of all people? It couldn't have been someone, _anyone_, else!'_ She stopped her train of thoughts, knowing that it truly couldn't have been anyone else. It _had_ to be Soul.

She raked her fingers through her hair, hoping to improve her otherwise disheveled appearance. Once finding mediocre satisfaction in her hair, she straightened her shorts down, hoping to maintain some of her modesty without having to actually change. Stalling to her best ability, she walked over to her vanity and studied herself. She wasn't really that unattractive was she? She still appeared the same way she did when she was 14 to herself, but she supposed watching yourself grow from a day-to-day basis made you oblivious. She still had long hair, it having since grown a little past her mid back. She no longer wore her iconic pigtails, instead wearing it down her back with her bangs trimmed shorter, now skimming her eyebrows in choppy pieces. The only difference in her facial features that she could notice was that her face had lost the once child-like roundness, and that she was now only slightly more feminine, with medium to long lashes that framed her emerald shaded eyes. She was so impeccably plain it hurt, her only notable growth, besides her figure, being that she was now more vulnerable to her partner's lack of romantic interest.

Deciding that she had better finish quickly before Soul decided to come back to her room with more of an attitude, she deemed herself presentable enough to leave the sanctuary of her room and braced herself to Soul's scrutiny and probable questions.

Soul was sitting at the table, facing away from her with his trademark perpetual slouch. His shoulders were tense, giving the impression that he was still irritated with her but he had a bowl sitting across from him, the spoon and napkin alongside it.

"Thanks for dinner," She proceeded towards him with caution, feeling guilty for falling asleep and then having an attitude. While grabbing her spoon, she glanced over at him to assess his expression, which was surprisingly blank though he was pointedly looking away from her. "You're not going to eat?"

Instead of answering her vocally, he simply shook his head.

Maka felt a pang of regret in her chest. He seemed really upset that she had fallen asleep. It had probably only reiterated the possible assumptions he had made about her avoiding him. The internal debate continued inside herself as she absent-mindedly stirred her spoon around in her bowl. What could she even say or do to rectify the situation?

She peeked at him, noting how the years had aged him flawlessly in opposition to her. His hair had grown, and he always looked as though he had just risen from bed. His vermilion eyes seemed to glow, even in complete darkness, and had the habit of drawing her in as if she was being sucked into a vortex, such as now though their gaze was pointed away from her. His jawline was defined, seeing has he had lost the baby fat in his face, far before she started maturing physically. Her eyes traveled along the course of his body, taking mental notes on it as if her life depended on it. He wasn't extremely muscular, at least not in the sense of mass; he was simply lean. She didn't know many details concerning how defined his body was, seeing as recently Maka would avoid any chance to see much of Soul's body, whether subconscious or not. He would often walked to his room after a shower clad in only a towel or would sit in the living room in a pair of jeans or basketball shorts when the heat would flare, during these times she would make herself as scarce as possible. Her eyes traveled further down his body only to stop herself in embarrassment while Soul appeared to remain oblivious.

She cleared her throat, "I really appreciate this, Soul. I know it seems like I've been avoiding you a lot lately-."

He scoffed, finally turning his attention to her. "Yeah, I've noticed."

She cut her eyes at him, her guilt redirecting itself as irritation. "Well, I've had a lot on my mind, recently."

"Like what?"

"I told you not to worry about it, Soul," her tone borderline threatening.

"I'm going to worry about it, _Maka._ You're my meister, and I feel like I don't know who you are anymore. No one ever sees you anymore, you're constantly shut up in your room, and if I do see you, you're either pissed off or depressed."

She knew he was just worried, she knew that they were both blowing this out of proportion for whatever reasons, but her nerves were shot and she was on edge. In short, she was sick of always feeling like she wasn't good enough. "I told you that I don't want to talk about it! If all I am to you is a meister, shouldn't you only concern yourself to my mood if it's concerning the battlefield?"

His scowl faltered, transforming into confusion. "What are you even talking about?"

Without missing a beat, "figure it out for yourself, idiot," that being said, she grabbed her bowl and proceed back to her bedroom, slamming the door in the process.

She knew that she was just taking her own insecurities out on him, she knew it was unwarranted and that he didn't deserve it but she was still angry; angry at him for worrying, angry at him for always being there for her, angry at him for knowing her so well; but most importantly, she was angry at herself for letting herself fall in so deep. She had never been in this position before; it was always herself against the pigs known as men, and she refused to break her promise to herself over a stupid man. At least she thought that she refused. She wasn't so sure anymore. If given the chance for something less than platonic with him, she wasn't even sure what her decisions would be.

Her realization in short had muddled up a lot of the ideals she held about herself. She had always been defenseless against self-doubt and angst, Soul almost always being the one to pull her out of the darkness, even in the more literal sense, but now she wasn't just defenseless, she felt conquered by this doubt. Were her feelings for Soul more than simply wanting to be with him, to connect with him physically, to feel him moving about and within her? She was unsure but she had the lurking suspicion that it was far more than what she had earlier come to realize.

She could hear the TV in the living room blaring but then it was shortly turned off. Then Soul's quick footsteps could be heard as he marched to his room and slammed his door. She could feel her heart sinking, knowing that she was the cause of his distress. Having lost her appetite from the argument, but not wanting to somehow insult him further, she ate in silence, the entire time staring at her door.

Once finished she laid in bed, staring emptily at the ceiling. What could she possibly do? Was it even worth it to try and fix their relationship? Should she let her feelings be known and make a move, or simply focus on fixing their friendship to avoid the risk of destroying their partnership completely? She couldn't imagine her life without Soul, he had been such a corporal element to it for so long, how could she ever go back to being alone? She could feel tears spilling down her cheeks, not understanding when she started or why she was even crying. She wasn't sure how to stop, so she gave in to it, letting these bewildering sentiments wash over her, until she was sure she would drown in it.

* * *

She woke up again to her door being opened. It was sometime after one o'clock in the morning. Assuming first that it was Blair, sneaking into her room after a late night at work, Maka closed her eyes. Only to shortly realize that Blair no longer lived there.

She sat up quickly, calling out to Soul in pure panic, not even registering whose name she was calling before it had slipped out.

"Calm down, it's me." The voice sounded like it belonged to Soul much to her chagrin.

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, allowing them to adjust enough for her to make out the sight of his stark white hair glowing in whatever light was being illuminated in her room. "Soul?" she sighed, relieved but also ashamed at having exposed her dependence to him. She paused her thoughts of humiliation long enough to wonder, "What are you doing in here?" aloud.

He studied her momentarily before answering quietly, "I think I understand now why you were so upset earlier…

* * *

A/N: Yes, I know, I ended this segment at a bit of a cliffhanger but that's because I actually have a question for the readers thus far, as well as a bit of an announcement. Would it be well received if I continued this story for a few more chapters (I'm think making this a 3-5 chapter sort of thing)? Also I've decided to change the rating to M, because the next chapter will have more adult suggestions. If I decide fully decide on a lemon, I'll post a warning in advance. Let me know your opinions.


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